


bouquets & bruisemarks

by ciredan



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, M/M, contains description of bullying, for context ajay is 3 years older than rabi, lapslock, slight gun violence cw, you feel all your soulmate's pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18640069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciredan/pseuds/ciredan
Summary: rabi ray rana was fifteen when he was shot.it was out by the abandoned jheel, with chotu by his side. he still remembers the panic, the sharp blooming burst of pain in his shoulder that burned deep and primal within him. it killed and it rended, and rabi remembers not even caring thatit wasn't actually himbeing shot. someone, somewhere out there was enduring an absolute bastard of a time. and, for the first time in a fair few fucking years, he actually felt concerned for whoever was on the other end of his soul bond rather than hating their guts.it was a couple of hours til chotu could get him back home, the grey sky fading to dusty pink and orange over the mountains as they walked side-by-side. rabi hoped that, somehow, his soulmate could feel just a fraction of his peace right now.over the himalayas, across two continents and halfway around the world; ajay ghale started to turn his life around.





	bouquets & bruisemarks

1.  
rabi ray rana was about nine years old when his soul-pains started getting worse. they intensified from occasional scrapes to punches and pushes and kicks and bruises. he could feel it, like no emotion he'd experienced before, being cornered like a goddamn animal. he felt the bruise in his knuckles as someone somewhere connected their fist with a face, could hear bone crunching inside his skull, feel his wrist bend back and almost snap because of poor technique. it was some sick psychic sort of joke that linked him and his soulmate together, he thought. what a horrible world, that he'd have to endure all this pain just for the promise of maybe one day finding "true love". he ended up sobbing and crying as ranjith soothed him in the nervous way brothers will only do while they're still young and empathetic, and he told ranjith that he hated this whole fucking system

When the pain hadn't gone away by tomorrow, he'd felt it flare up for the better part of a year, he figured he'd better say hello to the rest of his life.

2.  
rabi ray rana was fifteen when he was shot. 

it was out by the abandoned jheel, with chotu by his side. he still remembers the panic, the sharp blooming burst of pain in his shoulder that burned deep and primal within him. it killed and it rended, and rabi remembers not even caring that _it wasn't actually him_ being shot. someone, somewhere out there was enduring an absolute bastard of a time. and, for the first time in a fair few fucking years, he actually felt concerned for whoever was on the other end of his soul bond rather than hating their guts.

it was a couple of hours til chotu could get him back home, the grey sky fading to dusty pink and orange over the mountains as they walked side-by-side. rabi hoped that, somehow, his soulmate could feel just a fraction of his peace right now.

over the himalayas, across two continents and halfway around the world; ajay ghale started to turn his life around.

3.  
when rabi was twenty-two, he remembers feeling a guilt like no other. an unplaceable depression that told him "i should've been there more, i should've spent more time with her, i should've noticed it sooner". he couldn't understand it, couldn't rationalise exactly _why_ on earth he would feel this way. he recalled later, before the seven years of relative radio silence, the immense pain and anguish that would leak through to his psyche as a kid from his soulmate. _fuck_ , rabi thought, _why now?_ his radio show was just beginning to take off, his viewership was steadily increasing (as much as it could with just the one bell tower transmitting his frequency). he was immobilised for a week, having to force himself through tasks just so his bloody house didn't fall to pieces around him. rabi wasn't sure he would even be alive a month in the future.

he finally figured he felt alright again one spring morning, when he looked out over the shimmering water of the jheel, up and over the countryside. when he let his eyes study the snowy peaks without worrying about his sunglasses in the dim morning sunlight, and felt himself moved to tears by the distinct feeling like he was flying, and about to land someplace much closer to home.

4.  
ajay ghale walked into his life when rabi was twenty-three, and he was at once stricken by the earnest man that almost crept through his shoddy doorway to ask about the propaganda centre mission rabi had requested his services with. he was, in fact, so hopelessly and uselessly gay that he ended up rambling for all of 3 minutes about some _hearts and minds_ bullshit that he used to get this _cute boy, hot boy, cute tall hot shy boy holy **shit**_ out of the door before he burnt down his fucking shack with all the heat radiating from his face. fuck, kyra, he hoped it wasn't obvious that he was a total loser.

somewhere, in the back of his mind, was a nagging guilt that he was betraying his soulmate by even _looking_ at ajay. but people dated outside of their soul bonds all the time, right? it wasn't the middle ages anymore, nobody was going to crucify him for going against "kyra's will" or whatever. still, rabi couldn't help but feel disappointed that of all people he might share his soul bond with, the chances of it being ajay were infinitesimally small.

5.  
three weeks and as many missions later, ajay ghale stumbles into rabi's little house carrying a large armful of pilfered radio equipment.

"y-you said that you built all your stuff yourself? i figured you might wanna use these."

jesus fucking christ.

ajay ghale was going to be the _death_ of him.

"oh my god dude, for one let me start by saying that you are the sweetest motherfucker on Earth, and like, I mean that my dude. secondly, you gotta know that i would do anything for you at this point. i will lay down my life for you my man. i mean, maybe not that far but i will play nickleback for you if thats what you really want-- dude, is your shoulder okay?"

ajay placed the gear down by rabi's studio, and rabi leaped out of his seat to get closer to the other man. he rubbed his own shoulder absentmindedly and peered in at the man's own problem limb. was rabi too close? rabi felt like he was definitely way too close. he couldn't bring himself to care though; not when he was this near to ajay fucking ghale and he could look up and see the galaxies at play in his soft, soft eyes.

"yeah," said ajay, and was he _blushing?_ , "it's, uh, an old wound. more like a phantom pain than anything real at this point. probably just agitated it carrying that stuff around."

"dude you did not have to do that. like i know i'm awesome and kind of intimidating and everything but honestly it does not take that much to impress me. you walking in here and not getting killed by dholes impressed me."

ajay looked away sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his good arm. "y- yeah... it's no problem though, rabi."

rabi scoffed. "sure thing man. at least come and lie down, you look like shit dude. i mean you look like the walking dead and should definitely take a break for at least a couple of minutes. i mean you look like a zombie and need to sleep my guy."

"rabi-" ajay protested, but was cut off with a hiss when rabi grabbed his arm and tried to lead him towards his bed, which was the only moderately comfortable thing in the one-room house. rabi flinched back immediately at the tug, retracted his hand like he'd been burned. his hair stood up on end. fuck. shit. _his_ shoulder killed as well.

"shit, dude i am so sorry! i dont know what i was thinking just grabbing your damn hand like that when you literally _just_ told me your shoulder hurt i am so stu-"

"rabi, it's okay." ajay looked very pointedly away from him, brows furrowed like he was trying to figure something out. rabi was distracted by just about everything about him. fuck, he really had it bad huh? he supposed he couldn't help it that ajay ghale had to just walk in here with his perfect smile and his perfect hair and his perfect upper bod-- ajay raised his fist and socked himself in the gut.

it would have confused rabi, if not for the sudden force at his stomach. he twisted his face in a grimace, tensing up. though he overcame it quickly, and looked up into ajay ghale's deep brown eyes, which were staring at him like he was the most amazing thing in the universe. the shorter man spluttered, sure his face was burning pink right about now, and choked out, "fuck, dude, are we...?"

"shit, rabi," ajay breathed, "...i think we are."

and rabi laughed, genuinely, taking off his sunglasses to look up at the taller man properly. with an impulse, he flung himself into ajay, who caught him securely in his arms. the embrace was everything, and yet simultaneously so utterly _normal_ that rabi felt like crying at the familiarity of it all. right here, wrapped up in the moment, in the warmth and presence of ajay, rabi understood that everything was gonna turn out alright. he leant up, and pressed a small kiss to the corner of ajay's grinning mouth.

"yeah, soulmates."

**Author's Note:**

> hello. i have been trying. to write this story. for ages. i have been stuck. in rajay hell. for ever now. please, give me content


End file.
